


something like friendship (maybe even family)

by eurydicees



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Compliant, Developing Friendships, During Canon, Ember Island (Avatar), Family, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Love Languages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:33:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28177692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydicees/pseuds/eurydicees
Summary: 5 ways Zuko showed his friends he loves them, and one time they did the same for him. A story in the five love languages.
Relationships: The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 114
Collections: ATLA Winter Solstice 2020





	1. aang: physical touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xsticknoodlesx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xsticknoodlesx/gifts).



Aang is the one that Zuko has hurt the most, but he’s also the one who seems most able to forgive. He has a capacity for forgiveness and kindness that Zuko doesn’t know what to do with. He doesn’t understand it, doesn’t understand how someone who has been so hurt can still be so genuinely good. Zuko and his nation have given Aang nothing but a century’s worth of pain, but Aang looks at Zuko, and sees someone made up of more than his crimes. 

It might not be forgiveness that Zuko gets so much as it is reconciliation, but it’s something. It’s Aang, grabbing at his arm when they find the dragons, or sticking close to him during the entire ride there, or dragging Zuko over to the firepit to make sure he eats. It’s Aang, smiling at him over the fire and laughing at a joke that definitely isn’t as funny as when Uncle Iroh tells it. 

It takes a while, but Zuko begins to think maybe this is not just reconciliation, or forgiveness, but friendship. 

The group generally all sleeps in the same room of the temple together, pushing their bed rolls nearer to each other. They’re attached to each other in the way that a family is attached to each other. It’s a phenomenon that Zuko doesn’t quite understand, but that he looks at and craves. 

He doesn’t join, though. He sleeps alone in the room that they had shown him on that first day with the group. He falls asleep after hours of staring at the ceiling, trying not to think himself to death. He always ends up turning the day over in his head like a worn down coin, and he never comes to any conclusion. Maybe the group has accepted him, in some sense, or maybe they still hate him. It’s not like he can or would blame them for that. 

They stay up later than usual, one night, sharing stories and laughing over little mugs of tea that Zuko had made for them. Zuko doesn’t have any stories to share, but he likes listening to the others talk about their lives before this journey had stolen their childhoods. Sokka and Katara share traditional stories from the Water Tribe, occasionally arguing about how they go. Aang talks about his life in the Air Temples wistfully, and Zuko tries to ignore the twist of shame when Aang’s smile drops at the mention of a friend who has been gone for a century now, lost to the genocide Zuko’s ancestors started. 

But Aang always perks up eventually, bringing his smile back when Toph talks about the underground earthbending rings she dominated. Zuko wonders vaguely how much Aang doesn’t say— how much of this happiness is made up of pushing away memories of everything he lost? How much of him is made up of grief? 

He doesn’t ask. That’s not a conversation that Zuko should be a part of. 

They stay up later and later, the stars blinking above them like little eyes, watching over them. Under those stars, sitting by the flickering fire, Zuko feels safe, for the first time in years. Eventually, people start trickling off to sleep, crashing almost as soon as they lie down. Soon enough, it’s just Zuko and Aang who are left, staring at the dying fire. 

Aang looks over at him while Zuko counts the burning embers. There’s the smallest smile on Aang’s face, the fire making shadows dance over his face.

“Thank you,” Aang says, after a long moment of silence. “For teaching me.” 

Zuko looks over at him, the shadows flicking on his own face, eyes glinting. “Of course.” 

“I don’t think I’m afraid of it anymore,” Aang says, smiling to himself. He looks into the fire. “It’s so warm.” 

Zuko just nods, staring into the fire. The fire is warmer than usual, he thinks, and he wonders if it's him or Aang who is subconsciously making it hotter. Aang is getting better and better every day, and Zuko hopes that it’s enough. He hopes that he’s done a good enough job. 

“Are you scared?” he blurts out, immediately cursing himself in his head. He’s morbidly curious, but the way that Aang looks at him, eyes wide, makes him regret asking. 

Then Aang seems to deflate. He curls in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees. Not looking at Zuko, he gives a small, “Yes.” 

The silence that follows is uncomfortable, prickling at Zuko’s skin. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing with that information, but Aang looks so small, staring into the fire with the reflection of flames in his eyes that are suddenly so threatening. 

Zuko thinks back to Uncle Iroh, and to the way that Aang had gripped his wrist with his hand when he was afraid the dragons were going to eat him. He softens his voice as best as he knows how. “Do you want a hug?” 

That makes Aang look up, almost as shocked as he had been when Zuko asked if he was afraid. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and the way that he’s frowning at Zuko makes him regret saying anything. The whole situation is making him regret not going to bed earlier in the first place. 

“Yeah,” Aang finally says. “A hug would be nice.” 

Zuko nods once, sharp and quick, not quite sure what to do with his body. But Aang is well practiced in his hugs, and he steps noiselessly over to Zuko’s side of the fire and sits down next to him. Zuko, on some instinct that he must have gotten as an older brother and then never used, opens his arms. Aang smiles at him, and then curls into Zuko’s chest, letting Zuko wrap his arms around him. 

It’s an awkward hug that melts into something comfortable, Aang fitting perfectly in Zuko’s arms. Zuko can’t remember the last time that he hugged someone, but he’s sure that he can count on one hand the number of times it’s happened in the past four years. Somehow, sitting here with Aang, Zuko sees a lot more hugs in his future.

Zuko has never been exactly _comfortable_ with touch, especially not after the Agni Kai. It’s not that he doesn’t like it, or doesn’t want it, it’s just that there weren’t many opportunities on his ship, and at some point, Zuko lost a craving for it. Either that, or the craving had grown so vast he couldn’t feel it anymore. 

But Aang looks so soft and tired in the light of the fire, and Zuko can’t help but hate the world for doing this to a twelve year old child. He can’t help but want to protect the child he had spent so long hunting. It’s a strange reversal— hesitant with touch to offering hugs; hating the Avatar to hugging Aang— but it’s not an unwelcome one. 

He rubs Aang’s shoulder as gently as he can, and Aang sighs. All of that sadness that Aang keeps inside himself seems to come out in that sigh, and Zuko thinks that maybe a hug is what Aang needs to sleep at night. 

Well. If need be, Zuko can provide that.


	2. katara: acts of service

Katara doesn’t like him, and Zuko doesn’t really blame her. It’s not like she has any reason to trust him or want to be near him, especially not after what happened in Ba Sing Se. Zuko knows why she hates him, why she looks at him with such disdain and mistrust, why she hates letting him out of her sight so much, why she threatened him on his first day with the group. 

Zuko doesn’t exactly expect her to forgive him any time soon, if at all. But at some point, something clicks in him, and he realizes that he really, really wants her to like him. He really wants her as a friend. He wants to be a part of the group in a way that he isn’t right now. He wants to be part of the group in a way that he’s never been a part of anything— he wants to be accepted. But he also knows that he’s never going to be fully welcome until Katara trusts him. 

She doesn’t have to like him, Zuko decides, but trust is a start. She doesn’t have to forgive him, but letting him serve her tea is a start. She doesn’t have to be alone with him, but letting him talk to her is a start. 

Katara doesn’t ease up, though, even as time drags on. On the worst days, she won’t take her eyes off of him, suspicious dripping from her glare. She won’t let Zuko anywhere near her unless one of the others is raising an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to give in. 

On the better days, though, she’ll leave him alone with one of the others. Zuko teaches Aang as best as he knows how—he teaches Aang everything that he learned from Uncle Iroh, integrating and changing things as the dragons had shown him he could. He goes hunting and gathers berries with Sokka, trying to pull his weight within the group. He makes tea, and she takes it from him without complaint. 

Zuko isn’t exactly the most observant person in the world, but he starts to notice a pattern. It’s on the days that she’s cooking a larger meal that she eases up on him. It’s on the days she spends arguing with Toph. It’s on the days when she’s trying to teach Aang, and Aang just can’t quite get a move right, and they both look frustrated and stressed enough to raise oceans. It’s on the days she argues with Sokka about one thing or another. It’s on the days she exerts every inch of energy that one person can hold in their body and then some. It’s on those days that she seems to just give up. Zuko is, after all, once more thing to worry about, and Katara is already shouldering the weight of the team. It beings to dawn on Zuko that, if Aang is saving the earth, then Katara is holding up the sky. 

It’s exhausting to watch. She’s pushing herself beyond human limits, beyond anything that the group expects of her, but that they still don’t thank her for. She’s younger than Zuko— and Sokka— but she’s still taken on the role of the mother. It’s not fair to her. She’s just as much of a child as the rest of them. 

But she’s doing it, and she does it thanklessly. Even she has to take a break, though, eventually. Zuko thinks he’s maybe the only person who realizes that. He doesn’t know why it’s him, and not her brother or the boy who is so clearly infatuated with her. Maybe it’s because none of them are bothering to look— they’ve all grown so comfortable into their routine that they don’t notice what they’re doing anymore. Whatever the reason, Zuko sits outside of that routine and watches as Katara takes care of the rest of the group. 

She’s never going to ask for help, Zuko realizes. She’s going to keep doing this, as if she has to prove to someone that she can. As if she has to prove that she’s capable of it— and she is, she’s capable of the world. She moves oceans with her mind, she pulls and pushes the tides at her whim, and Zuko has heard rumors of bloodbending that she refuses to teach Aang. But even she isn’t superhuman. She’s not a god. She’s a child. 

It’s not like Zuko is all that much older than her, but he’s old enough to see that Katara deserves help. He’s not the best cook in the world, and he’s not Katara’s best friend, but he can do this. He can kneel next to her and he can do the dishes. 

She’s scrubbing furiously at a plate, scrubbing hard enough for her knuckles to be grating at the stone rather than the cloth. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t look up when Zuko comes over, as if she had been expecting him to. Half of Zuko realizes that she probably had been— she’s keeping a tight watch on him today, and he decides that she had probably been watching as he walked towards her. 

“Let someone help,” Zuko says as softly as he can. His voice is rough, raspy and tired, but Katara doesn’t seem to be listening. “Katara.” 

She stops, dropping her hands and looking at him. It’s not surprise or fear, but anger. She is, Zuko decides, terrifying when she wants to be. But she doesn’t seem to be seeing him as he is, just then. Her eyes are hardened, glaring into thin air, like there’s something there that Zuko can’t see. Angry, though not at him. 

“Katara?” Zuko asked, tilting his head. 

She blinks, shaking her head and glaring at him again. He studies her face, trying to figure out what she’s thinking, but Katara is a closed book to him. She shuts up when he looks at her, bottling up every emotion except for anger. She doesn’t cower under his stare, doesn’t seem to care at all that he’s looking at her. The skin at her lips is bitten down to a rawness that looks painful, and her jaw is tense, and when Zuko meets her eyes, he nearly jumps at the well of tears forming there. 

“Are you okay?” 

Katara swallows visibly, trying to keep her glare steady, but it’s clearly been a long day and she’s so, so tired. “I’m fine.” 

Zuko hesitates, staring at her for a moment before dropping his gaze. He reaches over slowly, pausing when she flinches and then stills. He takes the plate and cloth from her, unfolding her hands. Her fingers seemed to be locked into place around the plate, as if she’s never held anything else. 

“Let me do this,” Zuko says, pulling the plate away. She seems to deflate as soon as she lets go of it, all of the tension leaving her shoulders and sinking into the earth below them. “You shouldn’t have to do the dishes by yourself every night.” 

Katara shrugs, refusing to agree. She has a pride to rival Zuko’s own obsession with honor, and a loyalty to her family that Zuko thinks he once understood. They’re good, strong traits, but sometimes they push her into places she can’t go. Sometimes her refusal to ask for help and her desire to protect her friends from any difficulty means she ends up doing dishes as the light rapidly fades and her hands grow raw and red. 

“I can do the dishes,” Zuko tells her, “you can go sleep.” 

Katara stares at him, eyes flickering around his face, trying to figure out what game he’s playing. But he’s not playing any game. He’s just trying to be good. This time, he thinks he’s succeeding.

Zuko doesn’t look at her again, just focusing on scrubbing at the plate. There’s rice stuck to it that Katara hadn’t quite been able to get off. There’s silence for a moment, while Katara watches his hands as if she’s worried that he’s going to break all of the plates while she sleeps. 

Then she whispers a small, “Okay,” and stands up. 

Just after she leaves, he manages to get that bit of rice off of the plate. The dishes are a small, easy task. He can do this every night. Katara should be sleeping. Zuko can hold the sky for a little while.


	3. toph: quality time

By the time that they get to Ember Island, Zuko thinks that he has a good enough hold on the group to think that he’s actually, kind of, maybe, a part of it. When they go to see the Ember Island Players, they take Zuko along, and it’s not because they don’t want to let him out of their sight. It’s not because they don’t trust him alone— it’s because they genuinely want him to come along. It’s because they genuinely want to spend that time with him. 

He doesn’t really get it, but he’s going to take it. He’s going to take it with the kind of hunger that only someone who has never known love would have. He’s going to take it with a desperation that only someone who has never had a group of friends would have. He’s going to take it, and he’s not going to complain. 

It’s still strange, though. When they need to go into town, Zuko offers to go— the people of Ember Island live beyond the reach of the war; the people here care about being on vacation and having fun more than they care about someone who walks through town with their hood pulled up— and Toph decides to join him. 

“It’ll be a life changing field trip,” Toph says, grinning at him. She takes his hand and starts dragging him off of the beach and towards town. And surprisingly, the rest of the group trusts him to go along with her. What really surprises him, though, is that Katara hands him a grocery list and just… trusts him to get all of it. There’s no concern that he would waste their money or poison their food, there’s no threat that comes attached to the small piece of paper. 

Zuko stares at it for a moment, and then Toph starts dragging him away from Katara again. Her hand is warm around his wrist, and he lets himself follow her without complaint. 

Neither of them really know where they’re going, just that the farther they wander, the more street signs start appearing. Zuko went to Ember Island almost every summer when he was a child, but it’s changed since then. The streets are crumbling just a little more, and the people they pass by seem a little more worn down. 

He can tell the difference between the noble families who are vacationing and the people who live on the island year round just by the way that they walk. There’s a difference in the pride and energy that the nobles have that the residents don’t. There’s a certain kind of spark that the nobles have that the residents don’t. 

The war has affected everyone in strange ways, in ways that vary from person to person and from place to place. The nobles here have done nothing but profit off of it. Zuko remembers the party that he, Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee had gone to last time they were here, and how happy the kids had all seemed, how carefree they were. 

Then he thinks about Toph, who’s walking beside him and rambling about something that Zuko can’t quite focus on or care about, and he thinks about how the world is on the shoulders of these kids. They don’t have the liberty of being carefree. The shift between the teenagers at the party and the kids back in Zuko’s family’s beach house is unsettling. 

But Toph says his name once, and then again, and then louder, and Zuko blinks out of his thoughts. “Yeah?” 

Toph is still staring ahead, but she sighs so loudly and dramatically that Zuko can imagine rolling eyes and a pouting mouth. “You’re not listening to me.” 

“I am,” Zuko insists, though he definitely had not been listening. Toph is quiet for a moment, a very pointed, angry quiet, and Zuko sighs. “Okay. I’m listening now. Keep going.” 

Toph sighs again, just as loud and dramatic as before. “Well, now I don’t want to.” 

“Whatever,” Zuko mutters, rolling his eyes. “If you want to, I’m listening.” 

“Good.” Toph grins, punching his shoulder. “I have so much to say.” 

“I could have guessed that much. You’re a very opinionated person.” 

Toph laughs at that. She has a loud, clear laugh, like she couldn’t care less about anything else. When she laughs, it’s like all the stress in the world is gone, and Zuko finds himself smiling too. She laughs with her full body, grinning, her cheeks flushed pink. 

“Anyways,” Toph says, still smiling. “I was just wondering what it was like in the Fire Nation palace.” 

Zuko frowns. Of all the things that Toph could have said or asked, he didn’t think that would ever be one of them. “Why?” 

“I’m just curious,” Toph says. She shrugs. “I’m a Beifong, I’m supposed to know all about stupid noble people things.” 

Huh. Zuko had forgotten that Toph is a Beifong— much to her disdain, she had grown up pampered and respected throughout all her childhood. She had more money and advantages than she ever needed. Zuko realizes, with a start, that he doesn’t actually know all that much about Toph. He’s spent time alone with her, giving her piggy backs around the Western Air Temple and catering to her whims in order to make up for burning her feet, but they’d never really talked about things that actually matter. 

“So?” Toph asks.

Zuko licks his lips, looking down at her. He can see the strong, purposeful way that she walks, and the proud way she holds her shoulders, and the touch, angry exterior that she presents to the world— and he wonders how that could have ever come around. 

“It was lonely,” Zuko says slowly. “The palace isn’t exactly a home. It’s just… a building.” 

Toph makes some kind of agreeing noise. “I think I can understand that. Okay, I have another question, then.” 

“What?” Zuko asks, not quite sure he likes where this is going. He glances at her out of the corner of her eye, but she doesn’t give any sign of what she’s going to ask. “If you get to ask questions, I get to ask questions, too.” 

“Deal,” Toph says. She grins. “I get to go first: why did you leave the palace and join us?” 

That’s an easy one, and Zuko is grateful for that. “I already told all of you that one. It was just… the right thing to do. I realized everything that I had thought and done was wrong, and I needed to fix it. Joining you guys is the only way to get my fath— the Fire Lord off of the throne. And I… the world needs him gone.” 

Toph nods, considering that. She kicks at the ground, and he remembers that she can sense lies when she’s connected to the earth— which is always. “Good enough for me. Your turn.” 

“Okay,” Zuko says. He thinks about it for a moment, and the walk to the marketplace is suddenly feeling a lot longer than it should. “Where did you learn to earthbend?” 

“From the badgermoles,” Toph answers immediately. “I was angry at my parents for trying to control my life, and so I ran away. I found them, and learned how to be the best earthbender in the world.” 

She says it like it’s nothing, but Zuko can hear the pride in her voice. The corner of his mouth ticks up. It’s strange how often Toph makes him smile— smiling is an alien kind of movement to him— but it’s nice. He likes being around her, he realizes. Maybe she feels the same way. If he’s going to be friends with her, real friends, not just allies, he’s going to have to spend more time with her. That seems to be how Toph wants to be loved. To be known, for her, is to be listened to. But that won’t be a problem at all. 

“My turn,” Toph announces. “How’d you learn to be, like, a mediocre firebender?” 

Zuko rolls his eyes. He finds that he’s only vaguely annoyed though. It’s a question with half an insult in it, but he guesses that she doesn’t actually mean it. It’s like having a sibling, one who teases and berates but couldn’t ever actually hurt you— she’s almost the younger sister that Zuko never had. He’s beginning to like that. When this is all over, Zuko plans on staying by her side.


	4. sokka: gift giving

They go to the market on Ember Island a few times, and the next time that Zuko goes, it’s with Sokka. Sokka has been given very strict instructions to only buy the things that are on Katara’s grocery list, and nothing more than that. Zuko doesn’t really understand why such a strong warning is necessary, but he takes the list without question and then walks to the market with Sokka. 

They keep up a mindless chatter as they walk— mostly Sokka talking while Zuko listens and occasionally chimes in— and the walk is pleasant enough. Zuko likes Sokka; after going to Boiling Rock, he knows that he can trust Sokka with his life and that’s a pretty good marker in becoming friends with someone. He knows that, should he be about to fall into a boiling lake, Sokka will catch him. 

They work well together, fighting with flame and sword combined, enough to beat back Azula long enough for the two of them two get away. Zuko still doesn’t know how to trust anyone completely, but he knows that Sokka isn’t going to let him slip away. He knows that, while Sokka is watching over him, he’s safe enough. 

It’s a good feeling. 

So he and Sokka go to the market with Katara’s grocery list in hand, Sokka talking about his training with Piandao and a move that Zuko might like.

“We can spar later today,” Sokka says. He talks with his hands, waving emphatically as he walks, nearly hitting Zuko once. “I think I can beat you this time.” 

They’ve been sparring every night for the past few nights, Zuko winning more than half of their matches. Sokka never seems deterred by it though— instead, he seems exhilarated, like sparring with Zuko gives him an adrenaline rush that he can’t get anywhere else. 

“Sure,” Zuko agrees. 

Sokka shoots him a bright smile, and Zuko can feel his heart warm up. The group gives out smiles with an ease that Zuko doesn’t really know what to do with. Sokka especially does it, and Zuko doesn’t think he’s been smiled at so much in the rest of his life compared to the time he’s spent with them. 

They make it to the market and start working their way down Katara’s list, going item by item as they wander through the stalls. Sokka stops at every other stall, admiring whatever thing is being sold there, whether or not it’s on Katara’s list. 

Zuko, as Sokka stops to look at a collection of glasses he doesn't need, begins to see why Katara had warned Sokka to only buy food and nothing else. They’re running off of the money Zuko stole from the palace when he left, but that supply is slowly dwindling. 

“Zuko!” Sokka calls out, an excitement in his voice that Zuko hasn’t ever heard before. He’s heard Sokka excited, but this is a different kind of excited. “Come look at these!” 

Zuko resists the urge to roll his eyes— he really just wants to get the food they need and leave, despite what Sokka’s plans seem to be— but he goes over to Sokka anyways. He’s holding a necklace up to the light, smiling at the way that the sunlight glints against the charm. 

“It’s nice,” Zuko says, trying not to sound too impatient. 

He doesn’t really want to look at jewelry, not when there are more important things going on— the threat of war still weighs on his shoulders with a hurt that he can barely contain in his head, though everyone else seems to have forgotten about it. 

But Sokka grins at him between staring at the necklace. It has a long chain, with a charm swinging at the bottom of the chain. Sokka is clearly entranced by it, and Zuko isn’t quite sure why until he looks closer at the charm. It’s a little moon in a waning crescent and, in the shadow of where the rest of the moon would be, a small lapis lazuli stone is inset into the silver. His last girlfriend turned into the moon, Zuko recalls. 

“It’s nice,” Zuko says. “We still have to buy carrots. Katara wants to have a ‘balanced meal’ tonight.” 

Sokka nods, sighing. He sets the necklace down and shoots the man selling the necklaces an apologetic look. “I guess so. We’re not supposed to buy things that aren’t food anyways.” 

“Right,” Zuko says, turning away from the stand. 

Sokka turns to follow, but Zuko can feel the disappointment radiating off of him. It’s such a small, stupid thing, and Zuko has never been a materialistic person, but there are so few things in the world that they’re able to love. There are so few things left in the world that they own, that they can call theirs. He can, on some level, understand why Sokka would want something like that. Something to just call his own possession— within a world that thinks only of _losing,_ it’s nice to think about gaining something. About owning something. 

“Oh Agni,” Zuko mutters, then he turns around. Sokka stands there, blinking, the confusion written all over his face. “I’m buying you the stupid necklace, come on.” 

Sokka stares at him for a moment, and the rest of the market seems to slow down. They’ve wandered a little ways away from the stand, finding themselves a few stalls down, in front of a food item that they actually need. 

Zuko looks at Sokka and raises his eyebrow. “Do you want it or not?” 

Sokka hesitates for only a moment. “Yeah, I do.” 

“Good,” Zuko mutters. “Come on.” 

Without stopping to think much about it, Zuko grabs Sokka’s wrist and drags him towards the stand they had just been at. Sokka goes willingly, not protesting at all until they get to the stall. 

“Katara specifically said…” Sokka starts, trailing off. 

“She said you can’t buy anything that isn’t food,” Zuko reminds him, “she said nothing about me.” 

Sokka smirks. “That’s a nice loophole.” 

“One that she won’t make again.” Zuko turns to the merchant, pulling out the small pouch of money from his pocket. “So let’s take advantage of it while we can.” 

Sokka only nods. He picks up the necklace, running his finger over the gem. “It reminds me of home.” 

Zuko frowns, not looking at him while he hands the money over to the merchant. It’s not as expensive as Zuko would have guessed it is, though it’s a price that he knows Katara would never approve of. What she doesn’t know, Zuko reasons, won’t hurt her. But still, he winces at the suddenly much lighter weight of the money pouch. 

“It’s the colors,” Sokka continues. “It sometimes feels like there’s no blue anywhere but the Water Tribe. And the moon…” 

“Do you miss home?” Zuko asks when Sokka trails off, not quite sure why he’s asking. 

Sokka shrugs as if it’s not a question that he’s ever thought of before, but Zuko can see in the way that he looks at the necklace that he’s thought about this a lot. All he says, though, is, “Sometimes.” 

Zuko nods. He doesn’t want to push. Instead he thanks the merchant, turns to Sokka and nods. Sokka smiles, somewhat mournfully, and then unclasps the necklace. 

“Put it on?” Sokka asks. 

Zuko swallows down any unfamiliarity that comes with the movement, and takes the necklace from Sokka. Sokka turns around, and Zuko puts the necklace around his neck, putting the clasp on as smoothly as he can. His fingers, calloused and made for swords rather than delicate chains, fumble with the metal slightly, taking what feels like an eternity to put the necklace on. 

But the clasp clicks, and Sokka smiles, touching a finger to the charm. It seems to glow.

“It’s nice,” Zuko tells him. 

Sokka grins, tucking the charm under his shirt and patting it. “Thanks, Zuko.” 

“Don’t tell Katara,” is all that Zuko says. But Sokka’s smile makes him just a little less afraid of what Katara will say.


	5. suki: words of affirmation

Zuko is the slightest bit terrified of Suki and the slightest bit in awe of her. She gets them out of the Boiling Rock prison— even he’s not too proud to admit that none of them would have gotten anywhere without her— and on Ember Island, Zuko watches her spar with Sokka in a kind of trance. 

She moves with intention, with practiced feet and confident hands. Sokka had told him about her while on the war balloon, that she had been training since she was a child and that she could hold her own against the both of them together, but Zuko doesn’t realize just how accurate Sokka’s description was until he actually sees her spar. 

She’s fighting against Sokka, his sword against a quarterstaff Toph had dug up out of rock for her. She normally fights with some kind of fan, Zuko knows from his visit to Kyoshi Island, but she lost those when Azula captured her. If Zuko had to guess, they’re probably sitting in the palace like some kind of trophy. If— _when—_ they win the war, he’ll get them back to her. 

Even without her weapon of choice, Suki is a force to be reckoned with. She holds her own against Sokka, and though she isn’t as familiar with the quarterstaff as she is with her fans, she pushes back and manages to kick Sokka’s sword out of his hand with a well-placed foot to his wrist when he stumbles. 

Sokka goes down when she kicks again at his chest, and she stands tall over him, grinning. Sokka is laughing, a loud, boisterous laugh that Zuko can hear even from his position on the opposite side of the pavilion. Suki holds her rock staff tight in her hand, stamping it against the ground just once next to Sokka’s waist. Then she leans over to give him a hand up.

Zuko learns several things about Suki while they’re on Ember Island. He learns that she can’t cook to save her life, and that Katara has explicitly banned her from trying to help make meals. He learns that her favorite color is yellow. He learns that she trained as a child because she wanted to be just like Avatar Kyoshi when she grew up. He learns that she took on Azula and she might have won against her if it weren’t for how she was trying to protect Appa. He learns that she wakes up early, often waking up at the same time that Zuko himself does. He learns that, while he meditates in the mornings, she’s willing to join him. 

She sits next to him quietly— she moves with the grace of shadows, another thing that Zuko is slightly in awe of— without saying anything. Instead of speaking, the two of them just sit together and soak up the sunlight. They both have their eyes closed, breathing deep and even. Without even trying, Zuko finds that their breaths begin to match up. 

Suki is another person that Zuko has hurt irreparably, but that seems to have forgiven him— to some extent— anyways. Apparently there weren’t any permanent damages done to her village, and everything was able to be repaired, though it had cost them. 

Zuko makes another promise to himself that when the war ends and the good guys win, Kyoshi Island and every other Earth Kingdom village that has been broken by Fire Nation soldiers are all going to get some kind of reparations. The Earth Kingdom villages, right alongside everyone in the Water Tribes. 

There are so many people that Zuko’s nation has hurt, and so many actions that can’t be undone, but there’s nothing he can do about it right at this moment. Right now, he can sit next to Suki and breathe deeply and wonder how she can forgive him. 

The sun rises fully, and Zuko begins to hear the sound of everyone else getting up and yawning. It’s a slow day, and people take their time making their own breakfasts and talking to each other only in low voices, as if a single shout would break the spell that they’re under. 

Neither Suki nor Zuko move yet, though. They’ve found a quiet spot on the beach, sitting in the sand and staring eastwards out at the ocean. They’re close enough to everyone else that if anything happens, they can get to each other easily, but far enough that Zuko can ignore the group and focus on his own breathing. Zuko feels like he’s on the top of the world, sitting there and soaking up the sun. 

Finally, Zuko opens his eyes and glances over at Suki. Her expression has softened in the sun; as she stares out to the ocean, something peaceful has come over her. It’s a nice kind of peace that you don’t get very often in wartime, especially not when you’re one of the people expected to stop the war. 

“You’re staring,” Suki says, looking over at Zuko. 

Zuko blinks, then turns away, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Sorry.” 

“All good,” Suki says with a shrug. “How’d you sleep?” 

That was how they had been doing it since they started this routine— they find each other on the beach and sit in quiet meditation, then when the rest of the world has woken up, they talk quietly. It’s a steady, reliable routine that Zuko likes, and Suki seems to feel the same way. 

That’s another thing he’s learned about Suki— they’re incredibly similar in more ways than Zuko ever would have guessed.

“Okay,” Zuko says after a moment. “You?” 

Suki nods, looking away from him and back over the water. There’s something haunting her that Zuko can’t quite name, but that he guesses comes from having been locked up in a high security prison, separated from everyone she’s ever known. 

“Bad dreams,” Suki finally says, licking her lips. “I don’t sleep very well here.” 

Zuko nods. He can understand that much. He doesn’t think he’s had a full night’s sleep in years. “Want to talk about it?” 

It’s not an offer that comes naturally to him. He doesn’t know how to do the emotional parts of conversations, he doesn’t know how to help people. He barely knows how to talk to people. But one of the things that this journey is beginning to hammer into Zuko is a deep love for everyone else in the group. Zuko doesn’t know Suki very well, but he’s seen her fight. He’s trusted her with his life before, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat. 

Suki just shrugs, looking at him from the corner of her eye. Another thing that they have in common— talking about herself isn’t something that comes naturally to Suki. Zuko doesn’t think that it’s something that she’s ever had the opportunity to do before. Like the rest of them, she grew up too fast. She became the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors at too young of an age, and she joined this war too early. 

“I left them all behind,” Suki says quietly, whispering it into the sunbeams. She doesn’t look at Zuko, just stares down at her hands in her lap. “The guards separated me from the rest of the girls because I was their leader, and now I— I don’t know what’s happening to them. I keep dreaming about all of the awful things that could be…” 

She trails off, lost in those thoughts. Zuko just nods, studying her face. She has the hardened face of a warrior, of a girl who has been through and seen too much, but she carries it well. She holds her shoulders up and high and ready to fight. She’s proud of who she is, but for the first time, Zuko sees that pride falter. She’s confident, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have doubts. She’s just as human as the rest of them. 

“I can’t help but think it’s my fault,” Suki confesses. She looks up and away from her hands, choosing instead to fall backwards and lie down on her back, knees up towards the sky. “If I had just been a little bit stronger, then we could have survived Azula.” 

Zuko wets his lips, not quite sure what’s expected of him here. He knows that he initiated this conversation, mostly as a “I’m trying really hard to be friends” gesture, but now that the conversation is happening, he’s not quite sure what to do with it. Again, he finds himself thinking back to what his uncle might say. 

“It’s not your fault,” Zuko says finally. Suki doesn’t look at him, just keeps staring at the sun, that far away look in her eyes. “You know, I’ve never seen Azula lose a sparring match?” 

Suki looks over at him, one eyebrow raised. “I find that hard to believe.” 

“Really,” Zuko says. Maybe he just has a bad memory, but he’s looking back through all of his memories of him and Azula as children, and he can’t remember a moment when she genuinely lost a fight. “She’s strong. Powerful. Relentless.” 

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” 

Zuko shrugs. “I’m just saying. You might have gone to prison, but you survived. From what I’ve heard, she needed not just herself, but Mai _and_ Ty Lee to take you guys down. And even then, it was a struggle. Like, a genuine struggle. You should give yourself more credit.” 

“I guess,” Suki says, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “We still lost, though.” 

“Yeah,” Zuko agrees, “but I think you won the rematch.” 

“Oh?” 

Zuko nods. “You’re strong enough to have escaped her. Kyoshi would be proud.” 

Suki exhales, like all of the years she’s been holding onto are sinking out of her. All of the years she shouldn’t own yet— hardened, wartorn years— are all in that exhale. There’s still a tension in her shoulders, and Zuko doesn’t think that it’ll ever go away, but he hopes that he can give some kind of relief, sometimes. Hit or miss, he can keep trying to say the right thing. 

“My warriors are still in prison,” Suki murmurs. She glances at Zuko. “When we win the war, I’m going to free them.” 

Zuko nods. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”


	6. zuko: family

The week before Zuko’s coronation is a living nightmare. When he was a kid and dreaming of being the Fire Lord like his father, he didn’t think it would be like this. He didn’t think that it would weigh so heavily on his shoulders, or that it would hurt so much to think about what’s going to happen in the coming days, weeks, months, years. 

The war has ended, but there’s still so much more work to do, and somehow he’s expected to do all of it. Somehow, he’s expected to solve all of the problems that the Fire Nation has caused and is facing. He and his friends— and he feels safe in calling them that, now— saved the world, and now they have to rebuild it.

But he’s so tired, and he’s so young, and he doesn’t have the slightest clue what he’s doing. He doesn’t have any idea how to be a ruler— Ozai never taught him anything, and even if he had, Zuko would be doing the opposite of that. 

Tomorrow, he will officially be the Fire Lord, and he’s supposed to start a new world. The rest of his friends seem just as stressed as he is— each of them finding task after task after task that needs to be done in order to repair all of the damage. 

They still, somehow, find time to be with him, though. They still, somehow, find ways to be the best friends that Zuko could have ever asked for. Better friends than he deserves, he thinks. All of them, all of these children, are braver and kinder than the universe has ever been, and stronger and wiser than the world should have ever asked of them. 

The morning of the coronation, he wakes up to the sunlight pouring through the window. It heats up the room, hot enough for him to wake up sweaty— he knows that he closed the curtains the night before, but the sun is coming in anyways. When he opens his eyes, he sees Katara there, pulling open the drapes and letting the sunlight into the room. 

“Morning,” she calls out. She pulls open the last curtain, then turns to look at him. Her eyes are brighter than they ever were while the war was going on, and he’s reminded that, however much work there is left to do, there are still some good things that have already happened. “I made you breakfast. For old time’s sake.” 

Zuko blinks, then she points towards the side table, where a tray of food rests. It doesn’t look particularly appetizing, but Zuko remembers that he’s going to be Fire Lord and suddenly he feels so empty that he might throw up. 

“Food,” Katara instructs. He doesn’t argue, just pulls the tray over to sit on his lap and starts eating. “You would not believe the cook I had to fight in order to have ‘the privilege’ of cooking for your first day as Fire Lord.” 

“Thanks, I think,” Zuko says, mouth full of food. He looks at her, hoping that she can see how grateful he genuinely is. He doesn’t know if he could have gotten out of bed and found his own food, not today, not when his entire world is about to change for the millionth time. “Really.” 

Katara smiles at him, and he thinks that she understands. “Of course. Come to the gardens when you’re done eating.” 

Zuko nods, and she leaves the room. While he eats breakfast, the sun just gets brighter. The day is starting, and his coronation is just getting closer. 

He gives up on eating after a few minutes. It’s early morning, but the day feels impossibly long already. He can’t stop thinking about his country, about how he’s supposed to be in charge of everything, about how he’s supposed to fix the rest of the world. 

When he gets to the gardens, trying to shake away the feeling of dread that’s soaking into his lungs, it’s Toph who’s there. She’s sitting under his favorite tree, eyes closed, looking for all the world like she could be asleep. But as he approaches, she opens her eyes. 

“Hey Fire Lord,” she calls out, standing up. There’s dirt sticking to her pants, but she doesn’t make any move to brush it off. “You’re up late.”

“I was eating,” Zuko says, reaching her, “and I’m not Fire Lord yet.” 

Toph scoffs. “It’s a six hour difference between _not_ and _Lord.”_

Zuko licks his lips, taking a deep breath. He hadn’t thought about it like that, but there are six hours between his being a disgraced traitor to his nation and his being the Fire Lord. He doesn’t really know what to do with that information other than swallow it down and repress it. 

“You’re thinking too much,” Toph observes. “We need to stop that.” 

“What?” 

Toph grins at him, all her teeth showing. There’s a brightness in her smile that Katara had, too. “Come on, your Lordship, let’s go on a walk.” 

“A walk?” Zuko asks, but Toph just shrugs. 

She takes a hold of his wrist and starts dragging him forwards. After a minute, she lets go, and the two of them walk in silence around the gardens. It’s nice— a routine, easy movement. He can do this much; it’s just a step after a step after a step. Being with Toph is like that. She likes to break things down and face them, and Zuko thinks that maybe that’s what he needs to do now. Break down all of the ugly parts of the world and face them. 

Toph leads them towards the turtleduck pond, where she sits down in front of the water and pats the ground next to her. “I have bread. For the turtleducks.” 

“Yeah?” Zuko asks. He sits down next to her, back straight, tense. 

Toph doesn’t say anything about how clearly stressed he is, though. She just tears a loaf of bread in half and hands it to him. “Tell me if my aim is good.” 

She rips off smaller pieces of her half of the bread and starts to throw them into the water, each one moving wildly through the air and landing in completely different directions. 

“Good?” she asks. 

“There was effort,” Zuko says, and she bursts out laughing. It’s bright and clear and fills Zuko up with a warmth and comfort that he can’t find anywhere but with Toph. 

Toph gives up, handing him the rest of the bread. Bread isn’t sufficiently earth-like for her to see, and she can’t see the water either, so the whole thing is boring, she says. Zuko, though, has fun. She talks while he tosses bread towards the turtleducks, keeping his mind anywhere except for the upcoming ceremony. 

The two of them spend an hour or so there, tossing bread into the water and talking about everything except for politics and war. Zuko hadn’t realized how much he had needed this until she stood up, saying she had promised to go see Katara. She punches his arm before she goes, and he grins after her. 

Zuko doesn’t see anyone else until just before the coronation. Sokka and Suki come to him together, meeting him just before he leaves his room to get to where he’ll be crowned, in front of everyone who fought the war. They all support him, he knows, but it’s still terrifying. He’s never been good with crowds. 

“Hey,” Suki says, poking her head around the bedroom door to look in at him. “Can we come in?” 

Zuko can only nod, and she and Sokka both enter the room. They look unnaturally serious, and Zuko thinks that maybe this day is weighing on them, too. Then Sokka smiles, and the seriousness seems to fade away. He pulls Zuko into a tight hug, then steps away so Suki can hug him too. 

“How are you feeling?” Sokka asks. 

Zuko shrugs, wanting to say that he’s fine, that this is something he’s prepared for, that he knows what he’s getting into. But then he looks at the two of them and his face crumples. “I’m terrified,” he whispers. 

Suki nods, her eyes turning sad. “It’s okay to be scared, you know.” 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Zuko tells her, ready for her to roll her eyes or laugh or to tell him to just power through the ceremony. “I really don’t.” 

“I know,” Suki tells him. She glances between him and Sokka and then back at Zuko again. “But you’re going to do great.”

Zuko swallows. “I don’t know how to believe that.”

“You’ve just got to trust your friends,” Sokka tells him, voice uncharacteristically soft. 

“We’re here for you,” Suki adds. “Just because you’re all high and mighty now doesn’t mean we’re not still a team.” 

Zuko takes a breath. Then he nods. “Right.” 

Sokka smiles at him. He has the kind of smile that changes his whole face, that makes him bright and confident in a way that Zuko wishes he could manage right at that moment. Sokka pulls out a small box from his pocket, then pushes it into Zuko’s hands. “I got you something.” 

Zuko frowns, looking down at the box in his hands. It’s a small black box, one that clearly cost him money. He doesn’t know where Sokka got the money— and he doesn’t really want to know, now that he’s supposed to be upholding the law and whatnot— but he opens the box anyways. 

In the box is a gold cuff with four symbols carved into it, one for each of the elements. It’s a thin band, subtle enough that he can wear it under the stiff fabric and armor of the Fire Lord’s official outfit. In the middle of the four symbols is a sun. While the element symbols are carved into the band, the sun is raised up from the metal. 

“It’s a reminder that the four nations are behind you,” Sokka says, shifting his weight on his feet. “And that Agni has blessed you.” 

Zuko looks up at him and Suki, who both seem slightly nervous, like they’re afraid he’s going to hate it. He looks between the gold of the bracelet and the anxious smiles of his friends, and then he tackles them both into a hug. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, and he can feel the both of them smile. 

Sokka and Suki leave him a few minutes later, wishing him luck and telling him that they’ll see him after the coronation. Zuko can only watch them go, something choked up in his throat. He puts the bracelet on his left wrist, and it fits perfectly against his skin.

Zuko takes a deep breath and leaves his bedroom. It’s Aang who walks with him to the place where the ceremony will happen. Aang stops him, just before Zuko steels himself to move in front of the crowd. He remembers, with a vivid and horrifying clarity, being a child and watching Ozai be made Fire Lord. He remembers being terrified. He remembers thinking that this would change everything. 

Again, he stands here, ready to step out in front of his nation— in front of the world. Everything is going to change, and Zuko isn’t ready. 

“You okay?” Aang asks, looking up at him. He’s wearing what he said were traditional formal Air Nomad robes, but he’s so young that he looks like he’s drowning in them. 

Zuko looks at him. “A hug would be nice.” 

“I can do that,” Aang says, and he grins. 

He wraps Zuko in a hug, and Zuko thinks maybe he can’t fall apart if his friend is holding him like this. He thinks about what his friends have given him— even today alone, they’ve given him things he didn’t realize he needed. How can he be afraid if he has people looking out for him like that? If he has a family? A real one? 

Zuko pulls away. “Thank you. For everything.” 

“You’re going to be great,” Aang says, “Fire Lord Zuko.” 

Aang steps to the side, and Zuko inhales deeply. He stands behind the curtain, and thinks maybe he’s ready to go into this new world, though his breathing is unsteady and his hands are shaking. He steps out into the light and kneels for the headpiece to crown him. When he rises, he sees his friends standing below him, smiling and clapping, and yeah— he’s ready for this new world.


End file.
